She’d return tomorrow and try again. She’d show Emmet she wasn’t unkind to his precious little girl.
“The kids at the orphanage are sweet. I’m going back after school is out with cookies for them. Why don’t you come with me?”
Louisa’s heart flopped in protest. See kids? The idea mocked her barrenness. “I don’t think—”
“I know what you’re going to say. You don’t want to be reminded you can’t have children of your own. But these kids will likely help you. They know how to enjoy life despite their loss and disappointment.”
Sally’s words stung. “Are you saying I don’t?”
Sally looked shocked. “I didn’t mean it like that. I only thought seeing them would cheer you up. You know…after dealing with a child who is feeling sorry for herself.”
“You might be right. I’ll go with you. I’ll even help you bake cookies.” Maybe she’d learn a thing or two about working with children who had suffered unfortunate events in their life that would help her deal with Ellie.
Somehow she had to prove to herself she could handle the job God had placed in her lap. But she wondered if He had more faith in her abilities than she did.
Over lunch Emmet listened to a litany of complaints from Ellie. Louisa was too harsh. She didn’t explain things well.
“I don’t think she likes me.”
Emmet chuckled. “What’s not to like? You’re a sweet, smart, funny little girl.” He hoped Louisa was right, and this resistance was only an adjustment period. Strange that Louisa and Ellie hadn’t struck it off right away. From his first look at Louisa, he’d thought her beautiful—not just in appearance but in a deeper way. Her beauty seemed to come from within.
He fisted the idea away. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. Only that she was kind to his daughter. He would tolerate nothing less.
He carried the lunch plates and glasses to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee. A stack of dirty dishes waited to be washed. “I’ll sit with Ellie for a bit then clean up this mess.”
Auntie May shooed him away. “I do believe I can manage to wash a few dishes. Or at least let the cats lick them clean.”
“Leave them. I’ll do them later.” He did not want Ellie eating off cat-cleaned dishes.
Auntie May’s teasing chuckle made him realize he’d been tricked. “You’re joshing and I missed it.”
“You sure did. There was a time I’d have never gotten that past you.” She sobered. “I think you’ve grown far too serious.”
“Sometimes life isn’t a joking matter.” He headed for Ellie’s room.
“People should never forget to find and appreciate the good things God gives us.”
He paused to consider her. “I sometimes find it hard to believe in such.”
“And there lies your problem. Emmet, my dear boy, I’m not saying bad things don’t happen. I’m only saying you don’t need to let them steal away the good things too.”
He studied the words a moment but could find no personal truth in them. Except for one thing. “I have something I appreciate…Ellie.” He ducked into her room, a wide smile on his face as he planned to enjoy the afternoon with her. But her arms were flung above her head and she snored softly.
Suddenly the next few hours looked lonely and bleak. He returned to the kitchen.
Auntie May glanced over her shoulder where—he was relieved to see—she had a wash pan full of hot soapy water.
“She’s asleep.” He downed the lukewarm coffee Auntie May seemed to favor and yearned for a cup of strong, hot brew.
“Why don’t you have a look around town and see how the place has changed since you left? I’ll watch out for Ellie.”
“She’ll be bored.”
“Seems to me I can manage a little girl for an hour or two. Now shoo.”
So he “shooed,” right out the back door and down the lane that had once been his playground. He didn’t expect he would see any of the kids he’d grown up with. The girls would be married. And the boys who weren’t also married would be looking for work, perhaps riding the trains back and forth across the land.
He cut down a side avenue and ventured toward the main street. The buildings were familiar, even if they needed paint and repair. He stopped and stared. Mr. Smith’s fence had fallen down. Mr. Smith used to put a lot of stock in that fence. Emmet circled the corner of the lot and looked at the house. The door sagged. The windows were bare.
He saw a young man striding down the street and called out. “What happened to the Smith family?”
The man crossed to Emmet’s side. “They used to live here, didn’t they? They were gone before my time. But my wife said they lost everything in the crash and went to live with Mrs. Smith’s mother. No one has lived here since. Lots of empty houses around. Mostly abandoned by the occupants who could no longer make a living. Many have been taken by the bank because the mortgage payments were in default.”
The two had fallen into step and continued toward the heart of town. Emmet studied the businesses. “Sharp’s General Store. I remember them. There was a girl many grades below me…can’t remember her name.”
“Joanie?”
“That’s the one. I don’t suppose she’s still around? She’d be what? About nineteen or twenty.”
“She’s still around. I’m guessing you used to live here.”
Emmet explained how Auntie May was his guardian growing up. “I moved away nine years ago. Got married and have a little girl.”
“Welcome back home.”
Home. It had been once, but now? Truth be told, he didn’t know where home was anymore. Rather than try to answer the comment, he asked the man about himself. “Gather you’re a newcomer.”
“Recent. I’ve been here about a year. Judd Kirk. I married a pretty young gal from this area, and we bought a farm near town. It’s also near her home. Perhaps you know it—the Cotton place.”
“Sure, I know it. There were a couple kids in school with me. They’re gone, you say?” They’d arrived at the general store and trod indoors.
“Yup. Left the place lock, stock and barrel, which was handy for me.” Judd glanced around. “Why, here are my two sisters-in-law. Come and meet them.” Already Judd strode toward the young women.
Emmet stared. Louisa. He didn’t want to see her outside the hours she tutored Ellie. Anything more felt as if he’d crossed a mental barrier he erected around his life. But of course, in a town the size of Golden Prairie, they would naturally run into each other, unless he stayed within the boundaries of Auntie May’s house and yard. He’d done that for four days and found it stifling. Still, perhaps he could excuse himself on the pretext of urgent business. But too late. Judd led the young women toward Emmet. “My sisters-in-law, Louisa and Sally Morgan.”
“Louisa and I have already met. She’s tutoring my daughter.” Did he see the same flicker of regret over this meeting as he’d felt? The idea stung. Why should she want to avoid him? He shifted his gaze to the other girl, Sally, and greeted her.
Judd laughed. “It’s a small world. Or should I say it’s a small town.”
Louisa gave Judd a quick smile.
“Sally and I are preparing to make cookies to take to the orphanage. We needed raisins.”
“A tea party?” No mistaking the curious tone of Judd’s voice.
“Why don’t you pick up Madge and join us?” Sally offered.
This was obviously a family event. Emmet edged away.
Judd stopped him. “Why don’t you come along too?”
“I can’t.”
“Bring your daughter. She’ll enjoy it.”
Sally groaned. “Judd, the reason Louisa is tutoring his daughter is because Ellie is bedridden in a body cast. She can’t join us.”
Judd grabbed Emmet’s shoulder. “Right. That would be who I made the tripod for. Oh, man, I am so sorry. That’s tough on a little girl.”
“Thanks.”
“Good thing you have Louisa to tutor her. Could
n’t ask for anyone better.”
“Judd.” Louisa tried to stop her brother-in-law, but he ignored her.
“She knows what it’s like to have to stay in bed. I admire how she’s handled her illnesses so well. I think I’d want to moan and groan and feel sorry for myself. But not Louisa—”
Judd leaned close to Emmet and chuckled. “Don’t be fooled by her looks. She’s a fighter.”
Emmet watched the pair of sisters gather up their small parcel and head for the door.
Sally whispered something to Louisa and hung back. Louisa grabbed her arm and pushed her forward. Louisa paused before they exited and gave Judd a demanding look. “You’ll let Madge know right away so she can get ready?”
Judd laughed. “I’ll get on it immediately.” The look he gave Emmet burgeoned with amusement, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I better say goodbye or face the wrath of three sisters, because if one is offended they’re all offended. Sure you can’t come along? You know—to give me a little moral support?”
“Judd, are you coming?” Louisa’s voice was sweet and inviting, but Emmet saw the way Judd jerked to attention and guessed that beneath the gentleness lay solid, unyielding bedrock.
“Sorry, I can’t leave my daughter.” He liked the man and wished they could spend more time together. He missed company beyond Auntie May and Ellie. “Why don’t you drop by when you get a chance?”
Judd gave him a considering look. “I just might do that. Right now I better go find my wife and tell her of her sisters’ plans.” He hurried after Sally and Louisa.
The store felt empty when the trio left. Emmet gave himself a mental kick. He was used to being alone, out in the open, riding the range, working with cows. Company—and companionship—was sporadic and fleeting. So why should it bother him to be left behind? He must be getting befuddled.
He crossed to the candy selection, chose a red-and-white peppermint stick, paid for it and left the store. Ellie would be awake soon, and the candy would brighten her afternoon.
But later, as he sat beside his daughter, watching her suck the peppermint stick, the rest of the day stretched before him, as endless as the vast horizon. The only break in sight was Louisa’s return in the morning.
For Ellie’s sake only. The hours must be even longer for her.
Chapter Four
Louisa stopped at the last corner before the Hamilton home. She wasn’t eager to start the session with Ellie.
Rather than dwell on her doubts and fears, she thought of the few hours she and her sisters had spent at the orphanage. Louisa had dreaded the event but was determined not to let her sisters know. However, from the first rowdy greeting to the last goodbye, she’d enjoyed every minute. The children were happy to see them. Several acted as if they especially liked Louisa, which was heartwarming. One of the older girls brought her some drawings she’d done and listened eagerly as Louisa showed her how to add shading and correct perspective to her rather appealing work. Another child, a girl close to Ellie’s age, brought a book and begged Louisa to read it to her.
“What grade are you in, Leila?” she’d asked.
“Grade one. I’m six.”
Louisa asked her to read aloud from her reader. The child read eagerly and clearly. Ellie was in second grade and should read even better.
Perhaps today, Louisa would discover Ellie’s reading level. She turned the corner and headed toward the house. At the front gate, she parked, gathered up determination and courage and shoved them into place, then stepped forth to face the battle. God, guide me, bless me with Your wisdom. She took the awkward parcel from the backseat.
Emmet opened the door as she approached. He sent a questioning look at the bundle in her arms but didn’t ask about it.
At the way he seemed to assess her, Louisa’s cheeks burned. Judd should not have told him about Louisa’s illnesses. Three bouts of pneumonia. Influenza that hit her so hard. She’d asked Madge to remind him no one outside the family must hear of Louisa’s barrenness. She didn’t want to be the recipient of pitying looks.
“Good morning.” She kept her voice cool. Professional. She wasn’t a teacher, but she would act like one. Emmet was a parent of a student. Nothing more. “How is Ellie this morning?”
“Okay. And you?”
She faltered the slightest. Why did he ask? Did he think she might get ill at the least little thing? She tilted her chin. She had no intention of getting ill. “I’m fine, thank you. Eager to start my day.” Eager might be a slight exaggeration. But she would show no fear, no regret, no desperation. God was at her side. The Lord is my shepherd. He leadeth me beside still waters. Would the waters be still or troubled today?
Emmet kept pace at her side as she crossed the front room. “I’m glad you understand that Ellie is finding it difficult to adjust to her situation. It’s a relief to know you’ll be patient with her.”
Did she detect a warning in his voice? She stopped and faced him. “Mr. Hamilton—”
“Please, call me Emmet.”
Did teachers call parents by their first name? Would doing so cross a line she didn’t wish to cross? She needed to keep things impersonal between them. Not one step further than her feelings had already transgressed.
“As you please. I am being paid to teach your child.” The school board had hired her with specific expectations…keep the child up to speed with her classmates. Only, her position depended as much on Emmet’s approval as the school board’s expectations. Emmet had the right to say yes or no to her being Ellie’s tutor. “I’ll do my best to help her keep up with her class work.”
“I care less about Ellie’s schoolwork than about her happiness.”
What more could anyone ask of a parent? But life wasn’t always that simple. “I hope I can achieve the one without sacrificing the other.” But it would take Ellie’s cooperation. Something she suspected that would not come without a battle.
“That’s all I ask.”
Louisa stepped into Ellie’s room and read instant defiance in the child’s eyes. She was trapped between what Emmet believed was possible and what Ellie clearly would not allow—Louisa teaching her.
She considered putting aside the role of teacher and simply amusing the child, but her agreement with the board was quite specific and she couldn’t, in good conscience, pretend she fulfilled the terms without doing so. If she couldn’t teach Ellie she must quit. And that was something she would not do. Not with those medical bills stacked up on Mother’s desk.
Adele had given her more advice. “Make it clear that there is a certain amount of work to be done each day. Be matter-of-fact about it. Then do it.”
“But what if she doesn’t cooperate?”
“That’s where discipline comes in. You might try providing rewards, incentives, if you like.”
Louisa crossed to the little table where she arranged her lesson plans that she and Adele had drawn up together, the books she intended to use and the odd-shaped parcel.
“What’s that?”
“It’s for you. You can have it when you complete today’s lesson.” She picked up the chalk and wrote on the blackboard: “Reading, Arithmetic and History.” “Three subjects. We won’t spend long on each, but they all have an assignment that must be completed.”
Ellie eyed the package, her curiosity obvious.
Good. Louisa had already tried reading and arithmetic without success, so she went for history. “Grade twos are studying the history of Alberta. Today we are going to talk about the establishment of the North-West Mounted Police.” She loved the drama of the march west and had a picture book illustrating it. She began with explaining the need for a police force to settle the troubles in the West. She showed a picture of the colorful troop ready to set out—noble and hopeful, unaware of the challenges they would face.
But Ellie stared at the present as Louisa continued reading. If Ellie cared to look at the pictures, they were there before her. Adele had assured Louisa that Ellie would soon be d
rawn into the lessons.
Louisa came to the end of what she planned to read for the day.
“Now I want you to choose a project. You can either draw a picture about the march west or write a story. You can pretend to be one of the young police officers or—”
“What is that?” Her gaze hadn’t shifted from the parcel.
“If you want to open it, you have to do your lessons.” She placed a bed tray before Ellie, tilted so the child could write, and put a sheet of paper on it. “Do you wish to draw a picture or write a story?”
“Neither.” The girl certainly knew how to put on a pout. “Daddy won’t like that you’re teasing me. He lets me have anything I want.”
“That makes for mighty poor character.” Adele had prepared a list of questions should Ellie balk at working on her own initiative. “Here are questions about the North-West Mounted Police. You can do them.” There were five very simple questions.
“I don’t want to.”
At least she wasn’t insisting she didn’t know or couldn’t remember. Louisa wondered if this was progress. “If you want to see what’s in the parcel, you must first do your work.”
“No.” Ellie swept the tray to the floor with a clattering racket. “Why are you being so mean to me? I don’t have a mother, you know.”
“Well, I don’t have a father.”
“You’re a grown-up. You don’t need a father.”
“Even grown-ups need a father now and then.” She picked up the tray and rescued the paper and pencil, replaced them on the bed and tapped the page. “Please answer these questions.”
“I don’t want to, and I generally do as I please.”
Louisa sighed. “There’s a name for children like that.”
Ellie scowled. “What?”
Should she tell her? “Spoiled.”
Ellie screeched and tried to push the tray off the bed again. But Louisa held it firmly in place. “Let’s get this done so we can move on. We still have reading and arithmetic to do this morning.”
Ellie screamed louder.
Emmet strode into the room. “What’s going on here?”
Ellie sobbed and reached for Emmet. “She’s being mean to me.”
Linda Ford - [Three Brides, Three Cowboys 02] Page 4